


Second Chance

by CrunchySalad



Category: Bleach
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-24
Updated: 2010-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrunchySalad/pseuds/CrunchySalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything in the manga settles down, Grimmjow goes to the human world to discover who he was before he died and became a hollow. This may well become AU as the manga goes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first thing I wrote after not writing any fiction for a few years. I'm not that happy with it, but it was pretty invaluable in getting me back into a writing mood.

The door to Urahara Candy Shop opened, triggering the small bell that hung on the top of its frame. The noise was soon followed by the shuffle of feet and a large frame moving forward, dark eyes scanning the small space. Right now, Urahara's shop was neat, tidy, and empty. The ebb and flow of children through this same door wouldn't began until after school hours, and it was only noon.

Kurosaki Isshin made his way further into the store, surprised that one of Urahara's child servants wasn't here to mind it. Gumdrops and jellybeans of every color stared out at him from their glass homes along the walls; it gave him a toothache just to look at them. Soon enough some one was coming out of the back, and Isshin smiled in greeting at the man who appeared.

"Hey," he said, "Urahara said he wanted to see me?"

Tessai nodded, comical cornrows bobbing with the movement. "He's in the back."

Isshin made his way through the store front, back to the larger area that Urahara used to stage his more. . . illicit operations. The door from the candy shop opened up to a living area, and it was there that Isshin received his first surprise.

"Shit," he uttered, despite himself, as the door slammed shut behind him. Sleeping on the couch, looking for all the world like a contented cat, was a blue-haired man that Isshin was sure he recognized as one of those Espada he had heard so much about.

"Ah, Kurosaki-san," came Urahara's voice, "I'm glad you came. It seems that after the whole incident with Aizen, I've picked up a souvenir."

"I see," Isshin replied.

"I'll introduce you formally once he's awake, but this is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

Yeah, Isshin had heard about this one. His eyes studied the man, who was still sleeping peacefully despite the conversation around him. Grimmjow was all lean, hard muscle, made all too apparent from the lack of clothing that covered him. Only a pair of shorts covered his frame, and Isshin's eyes moved over the dips and curves of Grimmjow's flawless skin, over the light sheen of sweat that clung to him. But then Urahara was motioning them towards the kitchen, and he stopped looking.

"What is it?" Isshin asked, once they were in the adjoining room. "A gigai?"

"My best so far," Urahara replied. "Coffee?"

Isshin shook his head.

"It's an exact replica of his Arrancar form, minus the less. . . hollow-ish features, of course."

"Isn't he. . ." Isshin waved his hand around in small, useless circles ". . . dangerous? Why'd you bring him here?"

Urahara shrugged. "He said he wanted to come."

"He said he wanted to come," Isshin repeated, feeling one of his eyebrows moving upwards even before he was aware he was moving it. "So let me get this right. You're walking around Hueco Mundo when you come across one of Aizen's more sociopathic Arrancar, and he says he'd like to give the human world a try. So you say, 'yeah, sounds great, just follow me.'"

Urahara broke out into a wide grin. "Remarkable, Kurosaki-san, it's as though you were right there when it happened."

Isshin sighed as Urahara chuckled a little bit.

"At any rate," Urahara continued, "he's just a kitty who's been declawed. Thanks to that gigai he doesn't have any spiritual power anymore. He wouldn't even be able to see a ghost in this state. And, remarkably, without his spiritual energy he seems to have lost the desire to wreak havoc on everyone around him. Funny how things work, ne?"

"Hilarious."

"So I was thinking that maybe he could stay with you."

"You do know that he tried to kill my son," Isshin deadpanned. "Multiple times."

"Oh, who hasn't tried to kill Ichigo? I know I've been guilty of it."

Isshin only glared in response.

"Look, there's no space here, especially with Renji crashing whenever he comes to the human world. And you'd rather keep tabs on Grimmjow than turn him loose on the human world, right? Besides, him and Ichigo are practically best friends now. I'm sure they'll make great roommates."

"Yeah, sure," Isshin said, tone sarcastic even as his mind told him to concede. "I'm sure Ichigo will be thrilled."

"Ichigo won't say anything," came a new voice, and Isshin turned to see Grimmjow's tall frame in the doorway. The boy had put on the thinnest of white t-shirts, but a sliver of his abdominal muscles still showed as he scratched his stomach. "He'd want to keep tabs on me as much as any one."

"I don't know," Isshin said, but he was already thinking of what excuse he'd be giving Yuzu and Karin for their new houseguest.

Just several minutes later, Isshin was all too aware of the presence next to him as he walked home. Everything about Grimmjow was too warm, Isshin decided. His gigai gave off too much body heat. And that stare of his. . . it was like he could burn you by looking at you.

"Hey, old man. Sure you don't mind me staying?" Grimmjow asked, though his tone of voice made it clear that he didn't care either way what Isshin said.

Isshin turned to regard him, brown eyes meeting vivid blue, and he felt a flush run down the back of his neck. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Grimmjow shrugged and turned away, whatever expression on his face effectively hidden from Isshin. "There's nothing for me in Hueco Mundo."

"And there's something for you here?"

No answer, just silence until they reached the Kurosaki household, the topic effectively dropped. Once inside the house, Isshin followed noises in the kitchen to find Ichigo there, on his tip toes as he searched for something in a pantry. Never one to waste an opportunity, Isshin knocked Ichigo's legs from under him with a well-placed kick, smiling in satisfaction at Ichigo's cry of surprise and frustration.

"I found a friend of yours outside," he said, walking past Ichigo towards the clinic, "seems like he'll need a place to stay for awhile. Why don't you show him to your room?"

As the door to the clinic closed behind him Isshin could hear more surprised exclamations, interspersed with Grimmjow's terse replies, but he figured Ichigo was more than man enough to deal with it.

Over the next few days the Kurosaki family grew into a kind of ease with Grimmjow. Karin accepted Ichigo's visiting friend with indifference, Yuzu with enthusiasm. Yuzu's freindly, sometimes maternal, overtures seemed to make Grimmjow more tense than anything else, but he reacted as normally as he could. Like a pet cat, he was gone most of the day, only there during meals and to sleep on the futon that had been rolled out on the floor of Ichigo's room. He had seemed to come to an understanding with Ichigo, and Ichigo seemed to be keeping a watchful eye on Grimmjow's actions. Which suited Isshin fine, and he could go back to being a normal, run-of-the-mill small town doctor.

Of course, a few days is too short of a time to set any kind of standard, and Isshin's peace was broken exactly six days after Grimmjow came into his home. Isshin had just used up exactly one hour and seventeen minutes of his lunch break. It was a slow day, so the clinic was empty. His next client wasn't scheduled for another half hour, and that was just for a routine medical exam. So he made his way into his office with the intent of filling out some insurance papers when he saw a pair of lithe legs resting on the medical examination cot.

Isshin made his way towards the cot and pulled the curtain aside to reveal Grimmjow lounging back on it.

"It's rare to find you here," Isshin said, self-conscious as Grimmjow's eyes seemed to smolder as they looked up at him.

Grimmjow shifted slightly, clothes rustling as he pushed himself up, leaning back onto elbows and forearms. "Got into an accident this morning. Thought you could help bandage me up."

Isshin frowned at that, wondering if Grimmjow had been fighting or doing other unsavory things. But then Grimmjow was pulling up the edge of his tank top, revealing an expanse of stomach peppered lightly with blue and purple marks.

"Maybe I've got a broken rib or something."

"Yeah. . . " Embarrassingly enough, the word came out sounding like a gasp to Isshin. He made his way towards the cot, taking his time as he sat down next to Grimmjow. His fingers seemed to reach out in slow motion, but too soon they had settled onto Grimmjow's skin. Too warm, like Isshin always thought it would be. Smooth but firm. All muscle and no fat underneath his fingertips. His fingers and palms traced against Grimmjow's rib cage, in an examination that was much too careful. In no time at all, in forever, he was finished, his hands hesitating on that hot, hot skin.

"You can touch me more," came Grimmjow's voice, a little bit lower, a little bit harsher.

Isshin's head snapped up, only to see a small pink tongue reach out to trace over a moist upper lip.

"I see the way you look at me. Like you want to bend me over the table and fuck me raw. So what I'm asking is, why don't you?"

"What-"

But then Grimmjow was moving forward and he was moving back. The chair creaked as the other man straddled Isshin on it, the space between them decreasing to inches and millimeters. "To tell you the truth, I'm pretty hard up for it. When I was just spiritual energy all I wanted to do was eat and fight. But now. . . all this body wants to do is fuck. I swear I'm jerking myself off at least four times a day."

Isshin flushed with the images that statement brought to mind. His body was reacting all to quickly at Grimmjow's proximity, his cock stiff and uncomfortable in his pants. His hands came up to rest in Grimmjow's hips, mustering the self-control to push them away. "Why me? I'm just an old man-"

"Bullshit," Grimmjow cut off, his lips almost a snarl. "You could be hundreds of years old, Mr. Ex-Shinigami, but so could I. At any rate, I never knew I had a type, before, but I guess you're it."

A hand, moving to rest on his abdomen right above the zipper of his pants, and Isshin figured that this was going too far. Grimmjow growled a little as Isshin pushed him off his lap and put a respectable distance between the both of them. His breathing was a little unsteady, still, but he felt more in control of his body. "We can't do this."

Grimmjow's eyes were flashing dangerously, and he all but spit out his next words. "Why? Because of your dead wife? She's a pile of bones and worm food by now, I don't think she'll care."

Isshin moved before he realized it. The next thing he knew he had Grimmjow pinned against the wall, and the other man was looking like a wild animal waiting for a chance to pounce.

Calm down, Isshin thought, he just said it to get a rise out of you. Slowly, to let Grimmjow know he wasn't a threat anymore, he let go and backed away. Grimmjow looked furious, but he only pushed Isshin away as he stormed out of the clinic.

"You know what? Fuck you. Impotent fucker."

And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

That night Isshin had his first wet dream in what must have been decades. In it, Grimmjow was tight and hot and making the most delicious noises as he squirmed underneath him.

The next morning Isshin couldn't even look at Masaki's memorial poster. But he could feel her, could feel her eyes staring at him from the wall.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Yuzu asked, spooning another serving of eggs onto his plate. "You've been quiet lately."

"Leave him alone, Yuzu," Karin said, "it's nice that he's not acting like an idiot for once. We should enjoy it while it lasts."

Yuzu frowned, but didn't push it, instead looking at the untouched plate she had set up at the table. "And I wonder where Grimmjow is. He didn't come to dinner last night. . . maybe I should leave some food on the front step in case he comes by?"

"He's not a cat, Yuzu."

"Still. . ."

The girls left for school soon enough, and Isshin brought himself to face Masaki. She smiled down at him, perpetually happy. It would be one thing, he thought, if he was in love with some one else. He knew that, in that case, Masaki would be happy for him. She would be happy to see that he had moved on. But unrestrained, physical lust was another thing. It just seemed to cheapen everything.

Isshin sighed. Feeling embarrassed and vaguely dirty, he went to take a cold shower before his next patient showed up.

The next several days passed without Grimmjow, though the other man's absence didn't help Isshin's condition very much. He was still plagued by fevered dreams, even while waking, and found himself reaching downward for relief more often than was comfortable. He would squeeze and fondle himself in the shower, imagining Grimmjow was there with him. His kisses would be hot, Isshin decided, and borderline violent. Lips bruising and teeth knocking together. Maybe they would taste faintly of iron. Isshin would always come, hard, Grimmjow's self-satisfied grin burning in his mind.

Urahara showed up eventually, walking into the clinic on a slow day.

"You know," Uruhara said, "just because you're a widower doesn't mean you have to live like a celibate monk."

Isshin scowled and shoved his fists into his lab coat. "Exactly how much did Grimmjow tell you?"

"Not much, but I can basically put it together, the way he mutters things like 'dried-out old man' and 'impotent prude'."

"Uh huh."

"I had guessed him and Ichigo would end up having something between them, but I guess Ichigo's not really his type."

"What exactly do you need, Urahara?"

"Well, I just thought it would be fair to tell you. Since no one's willing to watch over Grimmjow, I was thinking of sending him back to Hueco Mundo."

"What?" Isshin slumped forward a little bit, remembering Grimmjow's forlorn tone when he had said 'there's nothing for me there.' He remembered how desolate Hueco Mondo was, all harsh sand and harsh sun and nothing soft or comforting. And through it all that pervasive feeling of being utterly alone. "Isn't that too cruel?"

Urahara shrugged at the question. "I can't have him running around town aimlessly. He's fine for now, but who knows what he'll end up doing."

"Where is he right now?"

"Probably at the library."

Isshin allowed himself a moment of surprise at that statement, but then he was getting up and slinging off his lab coat.

"Don't worry about Grimmjow," Isshin said, already on his way out the door, "I'll take responsibility for him."

It didn't take long for Isshin to walk to the town's main public library, and once he was there it only took a few questions to find out where Grimmjow was. Isshin found him in the small microfiche room in the back, his head down on the table, the machine in front of him flashing the headlines from an old Tokyo newspaper.

Grimmjow looked up at the sound of the door opening. It seemed as though he had been asleep, and he blinked several times at Isshin before he said anything. "What the hell do you want?"

Isshin didn't say anything, not at first. Instead, he moved a little bit closer, staring at the words suspended on the backlit screen. "Is this what you do when you disappear during the day?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"What exactly are you looking for?"

Grimmjow glowered for a few seconds as he contemplated answering or not. But then he shifted, tension easing out of his body as he leaned back. "Well, you know, after my last fight with Ichigo I started to thinking. Bout who I was. . . and not when I was in Hueco Mundo. Who was I before that? What kind of person was I before I died? What attachment did I have to the world that led me to becoming a hollow?

"What I used to have. What I lost. It bothered me that I didn't remember any of it."

"You're looking for clues to who you were," Isshin reiterated, a little surprised.

"Yeah, it's stupid," Grimmjow replied, eyes hardening minutely. "It seemed like hundreds of years I was in Hueco Mundo. I don't know when or where I died. Don't even know my real name. Like I'm gonna find shit out looking through random newspapers."

The silence hung between them like a tangible object. Isshin didn't feel the need to state that it really did seem futile, so instead he reached out and flicked off the machine. Its hum grew louder, for just a moment, before stopping completely. "Take a break. Come home for awhile. I don't know where you've been sleeping, but it doesn't look like it's been comfortable."

"I'm used to worse," Grimmjow replied, but he was already getting up. They walked home in silence, but Isshin could feel Grimmjow's eyes on him, analyzing.

They hadn't even made it all the way into the house when Isshin felt himself being slammed against the wall, vision blurring as his head hit it. Before he could even say anything, Grimmjow's lips were on his, as hot and insistent as Isshin had always imagined. He moved to push the other man away, but Grimmjow only pushed forward, and his resolve was quickly crumbling against all that heat. Heat and muscle, that amazing body pressed up against him. He could feel where Grimmjow was hard against his leg, and he was forgetting why it was that he didn't want to do this.

Grimmjow tasted so good, his tongue as aggressive as any other part of him, and it had been so long since Isshin had even kissed anybody. Before he knew it one hand was on Grimmjow's waist, he other buried in his hair, just so he could pull the other man that much closer, could get that much deeper inside his mouth. He was getting dizzy it was so good.

Finally, he broke for air, feeling lightheaded.

"You're not going to pussy out on me again, are you?" Grimmjow asked, voice rough. His eyes were glazed over, his breathing slightly labored.

"I think," Isshin said, "we should go somewhere more private."

They made it as far as the clinic, and Isshin could continue the examination he had started all those days before. Somehow Grimmjow ended up sitting on the edge of the examination table, shirtless, Isshin standing between his legs. Isshin's hands explored every plane and crevice of that body, making note of the way Grimmjow's muscles moved and flexed underneath his fingertips. Then he moved his mouth against that hot, firm skin. letting his lips and tongue explore every inch that his hands had been. Grimmjow felt so good, tasted so good, and he had wanted to do this for so long.

He could hear Grimmjow shudder and moan from above him. Grimmjow's hands tangled in his hair, gently pushing downward, but Isshin wasn't going to rush. He gently sucked his way back up Grimmjow's chest, delighting in the other man's gasp when he took a nipple into his mouth.

"Hey," Grimmjow managed to say, "come here."

He grabbed the collar of Isshin's shirt and pulled him upwards, and then their mouths were clashing together again. But then Isshin could feel Grimmjow's hands on his zipper, and before he could stop him Grimmjow's hands were pulling his erection through the hole of his boxers.

"Wow," Grimmjow mumbled, even as Isshin told him to stop. But the feeling of Grimmjow's hands on his cock was just too much, too good, and it only took one stroke before he came, shuddering his climax onto the table between them. Grimmjow just blinked at him, surprised, and for a moment Isshin was too embarrassed to say anything.

"That's why I told you to stop," he finally said, "it's been a long time for me."

"Oh. Well. . . you can get it up again, right?" Grimmjow gave him a little squeeze, but his cock was already going limp in Grimmjow's hand.

"I'm not a teenager anymore."

"Huh." Grimmjow leaned back on the table, still looking as enticing as ever. Isshin leaned forward, taking the unspoken invitation and unbuttoning Grimmjow's pants. He pulled Grimmjow's cock out, stroking it a few times just to have the chance to admire it. It was already rock hard, long shaft jutting out of sparse blue curls. It was flushed red with need, and Isshin leaned forward, taking the head of it in his mouth.

If he had been a younger man, the noises Grimmjow was making would have gotten him hard again in an instant. As it was, he settled for moving his tongue in circles around as he mouth Grimmjow's cock. He was taking his time moving downward, but then impatient hands tangled themselves in his hair, and he felt himself being shoved halfway down the other man's cock. His hands moved to Grimmjow's hips, holding them down and eliciting a mewl of disappointment from the other man. But, really, all he needed was time to adjust, and then he lightened his grip. Almost immediately Grimmjow thrust his hips up, cock disappearing fully in Isshin's mouth. Isshin let him thrust in and out of his mouth, all the while sucking on it the best he could. It didn't take long for Grimmjow to come, body shuddering as Isshin's mouth filled with his orgasm.

Grimmjow was still shuddering as Isshin got up, and he looked spent and sated as he laid almost completely still on the table.

"Let's-" Grimmjow began, but then they both heard the front door of the house being opened.

"Ichigo," Isshin said, suddenly remembering. He quickly zipped up his pants and pushed Grimmjow off the table, wiping at the white liquid that had spilled onto it. They had just barely made themselves look presentable when Ichigo stumbled in.

"Grimmjow?" Ichigo asked. "Since when did you come back?"

Grimmjow shrugged and leaned against the table. "Was craving a home cooked meal. Why, miss having a roommate?"

Ichigo scoffed at that. "Hardly. At any rate, I was looking for you, but you weren't at the library. Look what I found."

Ichigo slammed something down on Isshin's desk, a photocopy of a newspaper article from the 1920s.

"University Student Still Missing, Feared Dead"

And below the headline, a black and white picture of a young man. And while his hair was black, those handsome facial features couldn't have belonged to any one else. It was Grimmjow.


	2. Chapter 2

Even when Ichigo was asleep, he was aware of what was going on around him. He guessed that it was just something he had picked up out of necessity, given the dangerous situations he had lived through. So he was perfectly aware that Grimmjow, for whatever reason, felt the need to sneak out of the room for a few hours a night - odd, but given that Grimmjow was innately strange, not that surprising. And, right now, he was very much aware that Grimmjow was sleeping on the floor next to him. And he was vaguely becoming aware of something else, small noises in the periphery of his senses. . .

"Ouch! What the fuck!"

And that woke him up completely. Ichigo jumped up to a seated position, spinning around to look at what had caused Grimmjow's exclamation. Only to see that Renji, apparently in the process of sneaking into his room, had stumbled over Grimmjow's sleeping form to land on the floor.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Renji asked, eyes large as he stared at Grimmjow.

"I could ask the same thing about you," Grimmjow sneered.

Ichigo was about to interrupt when his door came slamming open, revealing the surprised faces of Isshin, Yuzu, and Karin.

"What's going on?" Isshin asked, flipping on the light switch.

"Apparently," Grimmjow said, pointing over at Renji, "loverboy here is sneaking into your son's room in the middle of the night."

Ichigo wanted to punch that grin off of Grimmjow's face right now.

"Who is he talking about?" Yuzu asked, only to have Karin shoo her away.

"No one's there. Let's just go back to sleep before their craziness infects us."

Isshin scratched his head, at a loss for words. "Well. . . it's true I've used a kind of hands off approach when it comes to parenting you, but. . . I think as a father, I should draw the line at men coming into your room late at night."

Renji looked beyond embarrassed. "Umm, yeah. This was a big mistake. I won't do it again, sorry."

"Wait, Renji," Ichigo started, tearing the sheets off of himself as he got out of bed, But Renji was already dashing out the window, red hair trailing behind him. Ichigo fell back into his bed, face in his hands. "Shit."

"Yeah," Isshin continued, "I'm just going to go now."

The light was switched off and the door closed.

Grimmjow snickered in the darkness. "Didn't know that you were screwing the ginger."

"Unfortunately," Ichigo replied, "I'm not. Crap, Grimmjow, why'd you have to go and make so much noise over it?"

"Not my fault. He's the one that stepped on me first."

Ichigo threw a pillow at Grimmjow before burying his head in another one. Crap. He should have told Renji that Grimmjow was staying with them, but it's not like he had seen him recently, and besides, what exactly was Renji doing sneaking into his room? Ichigo blushed as he remembered their last meeting, celebrating after the whole Aizen fiasco, Yoruichi letting it slip who Ichigo harbored a previously secret crush on. And Renji had just turned bright red, stuttered something, and left the barracks. Just left. Without really saying anything. It had been mortifying, especially with Inoue, Uryuu, and Chad blinking at him in surprise and sympathetic embarrassment.

And now Renji was sneaking into his room, and maybe that meant he actually stood a chance with the redhead, but then Grimmjow had to mess everything up. Ichigo was pretty sure that Renji wouldn't be trying to sneak in anymore.

Coming to a decision, Ichigo got out of bed and threw some pants on. There was only one place Renji would be, so he might as well head there and see what was up.

"I'm leaving," Ichigo said, making sure to accidentally kick Grimmjow on the way out.

It didn't take him long to get to Urahara's place, and the light in the window told him that Renji had probably just gotten back. He crept around the storefront to the back door and knocked. Renji answered almost instantly, as though he was expecting him.

"Grimmjow's in the human world and he's staying with my family," Ichigo explained in a rush, before he could even decide what to say next. He felt so stupid. Like a high school kid with his first crush. Which is what he was, really, but that notion hadn't crossed his mind.

"Yeah, I saw that." Awkward silence stretched between them. "What's he doing here?"

"I dunno, some crisis of existentialism. He wants to figure out who was before he was ever a hollow. What were you doing coming into my room?"

Renji opened his mouth, then closed it again. He stepped completely out of Urahara's place and closed the door behind him, obviously contemplating what to say next. "It doesn't matter. Has he been having any luck?"

"What do you mean it doesn't matter? And forget about Grimmjow for now."

"I mean I shouldn't have come over in the first place."

They were both glaring at each other now, and Ichigo wondered if this conversation was even going to go anywhere.

"Look," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, "let's just say what we have to say and move past it. Maybe Yoruichi was telling the truth, maybe I do like you. I have no idea why, given what an idiot you can be."

"Geez," Renji said sarcastically, "don't go getting all girly and romantic on me there."

"So?" Ichigo lifted his chin up a little bit, tone defiant. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing, I think."

Ichigo wasn't expecting that answer, and he certainly wasn't expecting it to come out of Renji's mouth so fast. "What?"

"Yeah, I mean, don't get me wrong. You're hot and everything, but you're a kid. And you're not just a kid by Shinigami standards, you're a kid by human standards even. I dunno, it just feels like it'd be wrong."

Ichigo flushed at that. Of all the excuses. . . "You guys didn't seem to mind that I was just a kid when I was kicking Aizen's ass for you."

"Come on, Ichigo. I mean, I'm in my mid 300s, and you're sixteen. That has to be against the law."

"Don't tell me there are statutory rape laws in Soul Society."

"Well, no, but. . ."

"It's a bullshit excuse and you know it," Ichigo said. "I've been through a lot more than other people my age."

"Yeah, I'm not arguing that. It's just weird, is all. For God sake's, Ichigo, you're sixteen years old."

This was going nowhere. Ichigo breathed through his frustration before deciding to drop the topic for now. "How long are you here for this time?"

"I told Byakuya a week."

"Maybe we should just drop this for now, and talk about this later."

"Or, you know, never."

They were still glaring at each other.

"Screw you," Ichigo finally said, before turning and striding away.

"Unfortunately not," Renji muttered under his breath, before turning to go into the house.

The next day Ichigo was still somewhat annoyed at the turn of events. He knew that whatever Renji had been planning to say to him when he snuck through that window, it wasn't what he had ended up saying at the end of the night. Renji didn't take a week long trip to the human world and sneak into Ichigo's room as soon as he got there to tell him he was too young. So whatever Renji was going to say or do, he had changed his mind about it, and Ichigo was going to change it back.

He sat down at the receptionist's desk in the clinic, where Grimmjow was currently sitting and looking over newspaper clippings. For whatever reason, Grimmjow had decided to actually work a little bit for his keep, and had taken to helping around the clinic. Today was Sunday, so it was fairly busy, but during the downtime they were taking notes on Grimmjow's previous life.

To be honest, it still seemed pretty hopeless. They had managed to find a few other articles in the same newspaper, which was a local paper from Irokawa city, about two hours away. But really, all they had was a name and a story. Asakura Hisao. A twenty-one year old university student studying, of all things, medicine. He disappeared one day without a word to anyone, wallet and belongings still in his dorm room. The only thing missing was a textbook on neural networks. His family was despondent and the police were clueless. A mystery that was almost a century old. . . if the police hadn't solved it then, Ichigo didn't think they'd be able to solve it now.

"It didn't seem like I was a bad person before I died," Grimmjow said, a quality to his voice that Ichigo couldn't recognize. "They wouldn't have looked for me so hard if I was, huh?"

Ichigo tried to search Grimmjow's expression for clues, but came up empty. His thoughts drifted to Inoue's brother, to how even the most noble of emotions could twist and bend to the point of perversion. "You probably weren't a bad person. I don't think most hollows were."

"Yeah, well, you're kind of an optimist when it comes to stupid things like seein' the good in people."

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't know if that's it, exactly."

"Hey. You don't happen to have your driver's license, do you?"

"No, why?"

"Can we take a train to this place? A university's gotta have records, right? I mean, the article talks about family, but they don't give details. A university would have those kind of details, right?"

"From the Taisho era?" Ichigo doubted it, but he guessed there was no harm in going to find out. "I've got a day off tomorrow if you want to go."

"Yeah. . . yeah, let's do that."

Grimmjow seemed almost. . . excited. It threw Ichigo off a little, seeing Grimmjow get worked up over something that wasn't a fight to the death, but he guessed the man had mellowed out since their fight.

After that Ichigo left to spend the afternoon playing video games with Keigo. It was pretty boring to be doing something so mundane, but it's not like there was much going on in Soul Society now. Plus, Keigo was one the friends he had neglected since becoming a shinigami, and he had always felt bad about that.

When he came back home he was surprised to find the house empty. He knew that Karin was off playing softball all day, and Yuzu was probably out buying groceries. The clinic was closed, so the last patient of the day must have cancelled. He made his way upstairs, stopping when he heard something that sounded like a moan coming from his dad's bedroom.

"Dad?" he asked, stepping forward. "Are you okay?"

No answer. Ichigo stepped forward to open the door to his dad's bedroom. Only to see Grimmjow straddling Isshin's hips and lowering himself down onto his dad's cock.

Ichigo screamed internally before turning around and running out of the house. He was vaguely aware of some one calling out his name, but he just wanted to get out of there. What the hell had that been? He knew what it was. It was wrong, on so many different levels. First of all, it was his dad. . . that thought alone made him throw up in his mouth a little bit. And with Grimmjow? What the hell?

He found his way to Urahara's place, where he burst in on Urahara and Renji playing a game of shogi in the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Renji asked. "You look like you're about to throw up."

"Grimmjow," Ichigo managed to mumble, "Grimmjow's screwing my dad."

Urahara and Renji were both snickering at him after he managed to explain what he had just seen.

"I know it's hard to accept," Urahara said, chuckling, "but parents have sex too. How do you think you got here?"

"I don't really see what the big deal is," Renji said, "I mean, they're both good looking guys-"

"That's not the problem, here, Renji." Ichigo sighed as he flopped down onto the ground. He didn't understand why Renji and Urahara weren't as grossed out about this as he was. "Man, why couldn't they have locked the door?"

Renji snickered some more at that comment.

"Renji, what are you doing tomorrow?" Ichigo asked. "I told Grimmjow I'd go with him on his little self-discovery mission, but it's just too embarrassing, being alone with him."

"I guess I can go," Renji said, still laughing a little under his breath. "Got nothing better to do."

"Argh. Is it cool if I stay here tonight? I just can't face them."

And that was how Ichigo found himself spending the night in the Urahara household, Jinta's feet digging into his side and Ururu holding onto his head like it was a teddy bear.

"You're looking pretty comfortable there," Renji teased, from the futon beside him. Ichigo would have turned to look at him, but he wasn't capable of moving his neck at the moment.

"He can build a huge underground training facility," Ichigo replied, "but he can't add another bedroom to this house."

"That's Urahara for you."

The next morning when Ichigo got back, Isshin and Grimmjow were sitting at the kitchen table finishing up breakfast. He couldn't even look at them, but at least Renji's presence made him feel marginally better.

"Son," his father said, putting on his 'grown up' tone of voice, "I think we need to talk."

"No," Ichigo replied, "we don't."

"I just want you to understand that Grimmjow's not taking the place of your mother."

"Huh?" Ichigo asked. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind until this very moment, but now his head was filled with visions of Grimmjow making him bento while wearing a frilly apron.

"Yeah," Grimmjow interjected, "it's just sex, you know?"

Ichigo's face scrunched up at that comment.

"I don't think you're making him feel better about things," Renji said. Isshin looked like he wanted to say something, but the phone in his clinic rang, and he rushed off to go answer it.

"What do you see in my dad anyway?" Ichigo asked, an expression of distaste written over his features.

"A pretty boy twink like you wouldn't understand," Grimmjow said, causing Ichigo to spit out the cereal he had just been eating.

"What did you just call me?" he asked, face a color slightly darker than his hair.

"You heard me. Your dad's hot. Deal with it. Plus, he has a huge-"

"Argh!" Ichigo exclaimed, covering his ears. "Never mind!"

"Look," Renji said, changing the subject, "are we going or what?"

The train ride itself passed in almost near silence. Ichigo didn't really want to say anything to Grimmjow, and Grimmjow was always more than happy to keep to himself. Renji would try to bring up a topic every now and then, but it always ended up having to do with Grimmjow's newly acquired love life, so Ichigo spent most of the time telling him to shut up about it.

After an hour and fifty minutes the three men found themselves standing in the administrative office of the medical school, listening to Grimmjow have a surprisingly civil conversation with a secretary.

"I'm doing a genealogy project," Grimmjow was saying, "and one of my great grand-uncles went to school here. I was hoping to be able to look up his records, you know, address, family, whatever else the school would normally keep tabs on."

Ichigo almost gaped at the plausible explanation. And here he had always thought Grimmjow was all brawn and no brains.

"From 1928?" the secretary asked. "Well, there's no way we would have put those records in our electronic database, but you might be able to find old paper records. There's no guarantee they weren't destroyed or lost, though."

"But you're saying I can look for them, yeah?"

The secretary shrugged. "I don't see the harm."

"And what about old yearbooks?"

"They're kept in a room in the library, but I'm not even sure that we had begun making yearbooks back that. If you want to look up old records, I can lead you there now."

"Hey," Grimmjow said, turning back to his friends, "I'll go look through the records. Can you guys go to the library and look for old yearbooks? Maybe newspaper clippings, if the school has its own paper."

"Great," Ichigo muttered, "more newspapers."

As Ichigo and Renji left they could hear Grimmjow asking the secretary if she had ever heard stories of a student who had gone missing in the 1920s, but it seemed as though she was clueless about it.


	3. Chapter 3

The yearbooks were kept in a small room at the side of the library. From the way dust coated the heavy, leather-bound books, it was clear that this wasn't a room that was often entered. Ichigo sat next to Renji at a small not-quite-table, the yearbooks from between 1924 and 1928 laid out in front of them.

"Seems he was in the rugby club," Ichigo said, looking at the entry he had found in the 1927 yearbook. Grimmjow's face stared out at him from a small, rectangular portrait, the barest of smiles on his lips. Asakura Hisai. "Suits him."

"He's here in in 1926, too," Renji said, "but that's it. And it doesn't tell us anything we didn't already know."

"Should we check the school newspaper?"

"Yeah, I guess." Renji leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on some imaginary point. Beneath that rough exterior, Renji was actually a pretty deep person. It was one of the things Ichigo liked about him. "It's strange, huh? In that gigai it's almost like he's human again. Like he's got a second chance at living."

Ichigo thought about it for little bit before replying. "He probably deserves it."

Hisai Asakura, after all, really didn't seem like a bad kid. However he died, chances are it was pretty terrible.

"Yeah, well," Renji continued, "probably a lot of people who die deserve a second chance at living. Maybe that's the whole point of Soul Society. . . it's like a continue for your current life, huh?"

"A pretty crappy one," Ichigo said, thinking about the conditions people entered into once they died. It might even be preferable to skip the whole Soul Society thing and go directly to reincarnation.

Renji looked over at him then, a smile on his lips at his previous statement. Ichigo hadn't realized it before, but now that they were facing each other, they were only a few inches apart. "Hey, it's not so bad."

Ichigo leaned forward, just a little bit. "Do you have any memories from when you were alive?"

"Not really," Renji said. "I was just a kid when I died, and that was a long time ago."

"Do you feel like you want a second chance?"

"I think I'm fine where I am right now," Renji mumbled. The air between them was heavy with something, Ichigo wasn't sure what. He leaned forward even more, taking advantage of the moment to press his lips against Renji's, only slightly surprised when Renji pressed back. Three closed-mouth kisses, and Ichigo pulled away, if only slightly.

"I'm not too young for you right now," he stated, somewhat smugly. He moved forward again, only to find Renji leaning away and sitting up. Renji's chair clattered as he sat upright, and whatever mood had been between them was effectively broken.

"Crap, I forgot," Renji said, to Ichigo's surprise and consternation. "It's hard to remember that you're actually so young. I mean, Hitsugaya's about a hundred years older than you but he looks a lot younger."

"If it's hard to remember, then just forget about it!" Ichigo exclaimed, frustrated. He was so stupid, to bring that up.

Renji, apparently, decided that he should just change the subject. "Hey, newspapers, right? Let's go check them out."

As Renji left the room Ichigo had no choice but to follow him, figuring he'd make his move some other time.

They met up with Grimmjow a few hours later in the cafeteria. Among the busy clatter of people coming and going, they compared notes and photocopies of what they had found.

"Rugby, huh?" Grimmjow asked. "Yeah, I can dig that."

"So," Ichigo continued, "the school newspaper articles didn't go into much more detail than the local newspaper. They did talk more about who you were as a student. . . get this. Apparently you were in the top ten percent."

"Hey. Why do you sound so shocked saying that?"

Renji snickered a little before turning his attention to the subject at hand. "What did you find?"

"I had a mom and dad and no siblings, so no chance on having any current family members. And apparently I was a local boy. My family lived about thirty minutes away, but that whole neighborhood's a strip mall now. I've got my old dorm room number, and it's still standing, but what use is a dorm number gonna get me?"

Some papers Grimmjow had left on the table caught Ichigo's eye, and he picked them up to look over them. "What's this?"

"My schedules from when I was a student."

Ichigo looked over the schedules, something in his head feeling like it wanted to click together. The subjects were pretty standard for a student who wanted to become a doctor, but there was something. . .

"Hey," he finally said, "none of these classes are even remotely about neurology."

Renji and Grimmjow stared at him with blank expressions.

"The textbook that was missing from your room," Ichigo said, "it was a neural networks book. But from your schedule it doesn't seem like you were interested in neuroscience at all. So what were you doing with it to began with?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Maybe it was a hobby. Maybe I was planning on taking a class."

"Yeah," Ichigo said, deflating, "maybe."

At any rate, it's not as though they'd be able to discover the relevance of the textbook without any living witnesses to question. Not for the first time, Ichigo felt they had gone as far as they could with this discovery project.

"We might as well check out that dorm," Renji said. "Who knows, it might stir up some long lost memories."

They made their way to the dorm rooms, where Grimmjow calmly knocked on his old door. When a student opened it, Grimmjow pasted on a smile which was, at least to Ichigo and Renji, very insincere and somewhat sinister.

"Hi," Grimmjow said, "I used to be a student at this school, and this was my first-year dorm room. I was visiting the campus when I got nostalgic. . . you don't mind if I check it out, do you?"

"No, man," the student said, opening his door, "go ahead. I mean, there's not much to see."

Ichigo was impressed. . . Grimmjow was certainly being pretty smooth with this detective game they were playing. The three of them stepped into the small room as the student bent down to put on his shoes. Apparently he had been about to head off somewhere. At any rate, the student was right. There wasn't much to see. It was a small single room, with enough space for a bed, desk, and dresser.

"Bringing up good memories of college?" Renji asked.

"Something like that," Grimmjow said, but the frown on his face said otherwise.

"Yeah," the student said, "I'm sure you're glad not to be living here anywhere. Especially with that stupid ghost story about this dorm."

"Ghost story?" Ichigo asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked at Renji, who had an expression of amusement on his face. As far as Ichigo could tell there wasn't any spiritual energy around here, and he figured Renji would agree.

"Yeah. I mean, it's part of the college lore. I'm sure your blue-haired friend over there knows what I'm talking about, it's been handed down from one generation of boarders to another, I guess. Some licentious story about about a student having an affair with a professor - both male, mind you. Well, something happened, and in some sort of jealous rage the professor ended up cutting the kid to pieces and stuffing him in the walls. Where he remains to this very day."

"Scary," Ichigo said, tone of voice indicating he felt it was anything but.

"Yeah, well, it's a fun ghost story to tell first years. Hey, do you guys mind? I've gotta get to class now."

As they were walking out of the dormitory, Ichigo couldn't resist. He turned towards Grimmjow.

"I guess even then," he said, "you were into old dudes."

"Ha ha," Grimmjow deadpanned.

"But it's great, right?" Renji asked. "At least now we know what happened to you."

Both Ichigo and Grimmjow looked at Renji in disbelief.

"You do realize," Ichigo said, "that was just a story, right? If that's what happened we definitely would have read about it in the newspapers."

"Oh. Yeah."

"At any rate," Grimmjow said, "I've got no memories of this place, whether it's living here or haunting it."

"The story's maybe got some truth, though," Ichigo continued. "I'm thinking after Hisai disappeared people just started making up rumors, and that's the story that stuck."

They sat down at a nearby bench, each one consolidating the information they had come across today in their minds. Ichigo was thinking that this was probably the most that they'd be able to find out about Hisao when he spotted a familiar title on the spine of a passing student's textbook.

"Hey," he called out, more on a whim than anything else, "isn't that 'Connections of the Nervous System: Tissue and Electricity'?"

The kid turned to him, beaming. "Yeah, can you believe it? They finally came out with a reprint."

"Reprint?"

The kid blinked at Ichigo, slightly confused. "Well, yeah. I mean. . . I'm sure you know about the book, right? Otherwise why would you stop me like that?"

"Oh, well. . . I just noticed that it was getting popular around campus," Ichigo lied. "I wondered what it was about."

"Yeah, well, of course it's getting popular, they finally reprinted it after about forever. Before this it was actually pretty rare. . . the school used to have a copy, but it was lost some time in the Taisho era."

"Huh," Ichigo said. "Well, thanks for clearing that up for me."

"Yeah, sure."

Ichigo exchanged looks with Grimmjow and Renji. "A rare book."

"So, what," Renji said, "some one killed Hisao to get his hands on a copy of that book?"

"Maybe," Ichigo relied, "but I don't think any one would go that far for a book. It might be relatively rare, but if this little university had a copy, other universities and libraries probably had them too."

Grimmjow sighed as he leaned backwards on the bench. "Today didn't really clear up any questions, huh? At any rate, we don't even know if this book was even an important factor."

"It was important enough that the newspaper commented on it," Ichigo said, "and that the police knew that it had been in your possession and was missing. Look, let's think through the scenarios. When you disappeared you didn't even have your wallet with you. Didn't even have your keys. So I figure, wherever you were heading when you mysteriously disappeared, you weren't heading very far.

"Maybe you were going to return the book to the neuroscience department, or maybe pass it on to a friend. This is, of course, assuming you had the book on you when you disappeared. The other alternative would be that you left your room without any belongings on you. In that case, some one had snuck in after you left the room to take the book. And whoever that some one was kept it a secret, since he or she didn't tell the police that the book wasn't missing after all.

"Either way, whatever happened when you disappeared, most likely it happened on campus."

"But in a way," Grimmjow added, "that the police couldn't figure it out."

Renji stayed silent, content to let the other two figure it out. Deduction wasn't exactly his strong point, though he was surprised that Ichigo was so good at it.

"You're a smart little thing, aren't you?" he asked.

Ichigo smirked at him. "Of course."

"Still," Grimmjow said, "we've got no leads, no nothing. We're at a dead end."

"We can try to find the book. If we can somehow find it, maybe we can trace its history back."

"You're kidding, right?" Grimmjow asked.

Ichigo shrugged. "It's worth a shot. You guys are pretty free, tomorrow you can start calling up used book stores, universities. Run a search through all the public library catalogs you can find on-line."

"Yeah," Grimmjow said, "and chances are the book's sitting in some one's attic gathering dust, if it still even exists at all."

"I was thinking," Renji interjected, "the reason this thing's so hard to figure out was because it happened so long ago, yeah? No living witnesses to question and all that. But I bet there are plenty of dead ones."

Ichigo frowned at the implication. "You mean look through Soul Society for people who knew Hisai? I thought of that, but Soul Society's a huge place, and you guys aren't exactly good at keeping records of every one."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Grimmjow asked. "Why don't you make new souls go through an immigration office or something when they first get there? Reunite them with their loved ones and stuff, keep good population records."

"Hey," Renji said, holding his hands up, "I don't make the rules."

"Okay, how about this," Ichigo said, "we'll look for the book. And maybe you can ask some one in Soul Society to put out a bulletin or something, looking for any one who knew Asakura Hisai circa 1928. If we're lucky one of those paths might actually lead us somewhere."

"I guess that's all we can do at this point," Renji agreed. "I guess we should catch the next train back to Karakura town."

By the time the trio got back, the sun had already set. There was a peaceful stillness that hung in the air, punctuated by the soft chirping of cicadas. They walked out of the train station together, but stopped once they reached a diverging intersection.

"You coming back?" Grimmjow asked, looking over at Ichigo.

"No," Ichigo replied. He, in turn, glanced over at Renji, who only looked mildly confused. "I could use a drink."

"I'm sure Urahara wouldn't mind if we help ourselves to a few bottles," Renji said, his fondness for social drinking playing directly into Ichigo's hands. It was a good thing that he didn't remember the drinking age in Japan, and the fact that Ichigo didn't meet it. "You sure you don't want to come over?"

Ichigo scowled, but thankfully Grimmjow was shaking his head no. He was probably going to head straight into Isshin's bedroom, much to Ichigo's disgust.

"No, I'm gonna get going. See you guys later."

"Yeah. Later."

Ichigo and Renji walked in comfortable silence to Urahara shop. It was unnaturally quiet at the place, everyone inside already fast asleep. Ichigo waited on the backyard patio as Renji went in to steal some sake. The redhead came out balancing two bottles in one hand and two small cups in the other.

"Bottom's up!" Renji exclaimed, grinning as he poured them both drinks. They knocked their cups together, and Ichigo watched as Renji chugged his cup down in one go. Ichigo poured him another cup, then took a small sip of his own. Two bottles later, Renji was considerably drunk, and Ichigo was feeling somewhat buzzed himself.

"Do you actually think this is going to lead anywhere?" Renji asked, his tone contemplative.

"Not really," Ichigo admitted. "To be honest, we've already found out more about Grimmjow than I was expecting to. Even if we don't find out anything else, at least we know his name and what he was doing before he died."

"Yeah, I guess." Renji flopped straight back onto the patio, eyes glazed over slightly. "How are you doing with him here? He did try to kill you, you know."

"Who hasn't tried to kill me? You definitely have, in case you don't remember."

Renji frowned. "I guess that's true."

"I guess I kind of feel sorry for him," Ichigo said. "I mean, he'd hate it if he heard me say it, but it's true. I feel like most hollows are around because shinigami didn't get there soon enough to send them off the Soul Society, you know? They're getting the raw end of the deal here."

"Maybe," Renji said, but his tone of voice was defensive. "I mean, it's not like we're not trying, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Ichigo said, laying down on his side next to Renji and staring down at him.

Renji blinked up at the blurry Ichigo that filled his vision. When he had first met Ichigo, the orange-haired man had seriously irritated him. He wasn't sure when that annoyance had turned into admiration. . . probably after Ichigo had handed him his ass on a platter, Renji thought with some depression. And then Yoruichi had blurted out that thing at the bar, and all of the sudden he had realized that Ichigo was super hot.

Which was probably why, now, his hand had somehow found a way onto Ichigo's hip.

"Are you trying to take advantage of me?" Renji asked, slurring just the tiniest bit.

"Yes," Ichigo replied, before leaning down and pressing their mouths together in a kiss. The urgent kisses made Renji's head spin. He pressed his tongue against Ichigo's lips, only to have them open easily. Their tongues met in hot, wet kisses, kisses that felt so good that Renji was only barely aware when Ichigo pressed their bodies together.

"Wait," he said, breaking away from that deliciously hot mouth, "should we be doing this?"

"Yes," Ichigo replied. And then their lips were meeting again.

So good, thought Renji. He moaned as their bodies pressed together even more, and he could feel something hard pressing against his thigh.

"Shit," he said, before turning on his side to press against Ichigo even more directly. A hand tangled itself in Ichigo's hair, pulling the other boy forward into a harsh kiss, while the other hand fumbled at Ichigo's zippers. But Ichigo's hands were on his zipper too, and before Renji knew it Ichigo was holding both their cocks together in his hand. Ichigo moved his hand up and down their lengths, squeezing them together.

Renji moaned as Ichigo's hand stroked the both of them together. His own hand moved back to Ichigo's ass, cupping the curves there, His fingers made their way to a very singular target when Ichigo pulled them away.

Ichigo, for his part, blushed as his heart raced. He wasn't quite ready for that aspect of sex yet. Despite his bravado, he was still a little bit nervous about doing even this much. At any rate, Renji took the hint, and moved his hand to join Ichigo's around their pulsing erections. Ichigo gasped as Renji's large hand wrapped around their shafts, and then they were jerking each other off together, in rough and chaotic movements.

Ichigo came first, seed spilling between them and onto their hands, but Renji followed soon after. Afterwards they laid there for a moment, just breathing, hands still holding on to their softening cocks.

"You better not forget this when you're sober," Ichigo muttered, but Renji was already snoring softly.

Meanwhile, Grimmjow was sitting in the darkened room of the clinic office, only a desk lamp on to provide light. He was looking through some of Isshin's medical books when Isshin himself appeared on the door, flicking on the light switch for the room.

"You shouldn't read in the dark," Isshin said, "it's bad for your eyes."

Grimmjow only grunted in response, still flipping through pages.

Isshin stared at the other man for awhile, thinking he could probably guess what was going through Grimmjow's mind. "You know, Urahara said it'd be no problem to forge some documents, get you an actual identity here in the human world. Maybe you could enroll in medical school. Do whatever it was you wanted to do before you died."

Grimmjow scowled at that, finally looking up from the book. "What's the fucking point? I'm not the same guy."

Isshin shrugged. "Then maybe you can be someone new."

Grimmjow frowned as he looked over at Isshin. The older man was slumped casually in the opposite chair, stubble darker than usual, ducks covering his pajamas. Yuzu must have bought them for him. It was kind of nice, Grimmjow thought, that kind of stupid family stuff. Not like Aizen had ever gotten him duck covered pajamas.

Grimmjow closed the book he had been looking through and put it on the desk. The truth was the more Grimmjow found out about Hisai the less he really cared. It was almost enough just to know his name; he didn't feel a great need to find out exactly what kind of person he had been. Still, the circumstances of his death nagged at him.

"Hey," Grimmjow said, "have you ever heard of this book 'Connections of the Nervous System: Tissue and Electricity'?"

Isshin blinked in surprise at the title. "Yeah, actually. Ryuken has a copy. He managed to get ahold of it a few years ago."


	4. Chapter 4

Renji woke up with a start, eyes flashing open as something cold and wet splashed across his face. Urahara was standing above him and grinning, an empty glass in his hand.

"I thought you could use some water," Urahara said, "especially since you went through some of my best sake bottles last night."

Renji froze. That was definitely not all Urahara had in his dark, twisted mind for punishment. No doubt he was pissed about the missing alcohol and would exact his revenge some other way when Renji was least expecting it. Well, Renji thought, relaxing, he'd just have to deal with it when it happened. But then he froze again, remembering what he had done last night immediately after drinking all that sake. He looked down, relieved to see that his pants were on. At least no one had seen. . . "Where's Ichigo?"

"He went back inside to get some more sleep. It seems you two had a long night."

If there was some kind of connotation in those words, Renji sure as hell couldn't tell. He sprung up off the porch and made his way inside to the room, relieved to see that every one else was awake and going about their daily business. At least then he and Ichigo would have the room to themselves.

He bounded through the door, immediately going to Ichigo's body and grabbing the boy's shoulders. He lifted him up, shaking.

"Mmm. . . Renji. . . what the hell?" Ichigo blinked open his eyes and swatted Renji's hands away.

"Ichigo, man, I'm so sorry."

"What? What are you talking about?" Was Renji kneeling?

"It was all my fault! I totally took advantage of you while we were drunk yesterday, it never should've happened, and I feel real bad-"

"Renji," Ichigo said, scowling. He didn't need Renji to go off on some ridiculous rant, especially not this early in the morning. If Renji wasn't waking him up for sex, then Ichigo just wanted to go back to sleep. . . well, there was an idea. "I guess you should take responsibility, then."

Renji blinked at him, obviously confused. He looked even more confused when Ichigo grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss.

Ichigo pressed against and sucked on Renji's lips, a little disheartened when they didn't respond at all. It was entirely possible that he was doing something wrong. . . it's not like he had ever done anything with anyone before. He had figured that a benefit of dating Renji would be the fact that the redhead had much more experience, but that didn't help when he was so unwilling to teach Ichigo anything. It also didn't help when Renji tried to actually talk during the kisses, mumbling against Ichigo's lips.

"I don't. . . think. . . this is. . . taking. . . responsi. . . bility."

Ichigo's scowl only deepened as he pulled away, but this time it was partly affected. "So you're just going to have sex with me and run off?"

"Huh?"

"Was this just a cheap one-night stand to you?"

"Of course not!" Renji said. He looked like he was short-circuiting, and Ichigo was glad that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Renji was smart of course, in certain arenas, but those arenas didn't include things like logic and manipulation.

"Then the only other option is for us to date." Ichigo pressed a hand against Renji's groin, glad that his kisses had an effect after all. "Besides, you're already hard."

Ichigo flipped them over so that he was straddling Renji's stomach. The movement hit Renji's head against the wooden floor with a loud bang, and Ichigo cringed at the noise. He really had to watch his strength sometimes. He leaned down and started kissing Renji again, but this time Renji actually kissed back.

Ichigo pulled his mouth away, loath to do it but wanting to make sure. "Is this okay with you?"

"My head hurts," Renji muttered, before pulling Ichigo down for another kiss.

Ichigo guessed that was a yes. He moved down a little, enough that their groins could rub against each other. He rubbed them together through their clothes for awhile, just enjoying the sensations. Renji's hands came up to rub and knead his ass, then moved to his waistband to fumble with his zipper. Ichigo took the hint, and he maneuvered himself enough that he could take off his pants in the least possible number of moves. Afterward he crept back onto Renji and unzipped the other man's zipper, pulling his cock out from that nest of red curls. He pressed them together and stroked, leaning down to resume their kissing. Renji's hands resumed their fondling, but the touch of Renji's hands on his bare skin was different. . . more intimate.

Ichigo felt nerves flutter in his stomach. But then Renji's fingers ghosted against his hole. It was more an accidental brush then anything else, but it sent a jolt through Ichigo big enough that he stopped the kiss. They were both breathing heavily, but Renji's eyes looked confused in addition to being glazed over with lust.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

". . . I don't know if you remember, but I'm not ready for that yet."

"Oh," Renji said. He didn't seem disappointed or anything, and for that Ichigo was glad. "Do you want to do me, then?"

Ichigo blushed. He didn't think he was quite ready for that yet, either. He wouldn't know what to do. He wondered why they couldn't just jerk each other off and be done with it. Or move on to blow jobs. Maybe.

"Okay," Renji said, reading Ichigo's mood, "that's fine. Let's do this instead. . . lay down on your side."

Ichigo frowned, but did what he was told. His stomach fluttered even more as Renji laid down behind him, spooning. One of Renji's hands came around to wrap around his cock, eliciting a small moan from Ichigo, and Renji's lips came down to press a kiss against Ichigo's neck.

"Keep your legs pressed together as tight as you can. Don't worry, I'll only use your thighs."

Ichigo wasn't sure what Renji meant, but than he felt the head of Renji's cock press between his legs and slide through them. He blushed even harder, looking down to see a bulbous head stick out through the front of his legs. He didn't even know that this was a thing. Renji moaned behind him, then started sliding his cock back and forth through Ichigo's tightly pressed thighs.

Ichigo wasn't sure he could get any redder. It felt odd, having someone use his thighs like this, but he guessed that if he was making Renji feel good than it was alright. He twisted his head back so that they could kiss, and concentrating on the way Renji's hand felt on his cock.

He was the first one to come, moaning his climax into Renji's mouth. His whole body shuddered, and his cock jerked in Renji's grip. It shot out a few strands of semen, coating Renji's fingers and dripping down onto the floor. Renji picked up his pace and came a few moments later, shooting sticky cum out onto Ichigo's thighs. After that Renji wrapped his arms around Ichigo, and pressed a kiss against the back of Ichigo's head.

"I guess I should just give up," he said. "I could never win against you, anyway."

Ichigo smiled in self-satisfaction.

* * *

"I'm here to see Ishida Ryuken."

Grimmjow stuffed his fists into his jacket pockets, a little bit agitated as he looked around. Karakura hospital was all beige and grey, a dull place filled with all manner of noises as people ran to and fro. It also stunk of stale air and disease, and Grimmjow decided that he really hated hospitals.

"The director?" the receptionist asked, giving him a suspicious look. "He's too busy-"

"I've got an appointment," Grimmjow spit out, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

The receptionist still didn't look like she believed him, but she picked up her phone and pushed a button.

"A young man is here to see Dr. Ishida."

A pause, and then Grimmjow could hear a faint female voice come through the other end. "Send him up."

The receptionist hung up, looking a little put out.

"Second floor," she said, in clipped, precise syllables, "room 205."

Grimmjow turned without thanking her and made his way to the staircase. He entered room 205 to find a desk with a young, slim woman sitting behind him.

"Go on in," she said, gesturing to the door behind her.

Grimmjow let himself in, into a moderately sized office lined with bookshelves. A large window took up most of one wall, offering views of the hospital parking lot and houses beyond that.

"You must be Grimmjow," said a voice, and Grimmjow saw for the first time a white-haired man sitting at the desk, a rather smug expression on his face. For some reason Grimmjow hated him instantly. "Isshin's little kept boy."

Grimmjow snarled at that, but knew he couldn't really do anything about it. This Ryuuken guy looked almost exactly like Ichigo's skinny archer friend, and he figured Ryuuken was a Quincy as well. Still, he wanted to wipe that arrogant smile off his face. What did Ryuuken care about Isshin was doing with Grimmjow, anyway? Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. What exactly was Ryuuken's relationship with Isshin? But then a book was thrown onto the desk between them, effectively distracting him.

"Why don't you have a seat?"

Grimmjow grudgingly did so, moving to pick up the book on his way down. He looked over at Ryuken as he did it, but the other man didn't seem to mind.

"Oh, you can have it," Ryuken said, "I've already placed an order for the new printing. It's actually a very outdated book, but there are a few concepts in it that apply to modern medicine."

"I didn't ask," Grimmjow said, opening the book up. It was obviously old. The leather of the cover was peeling away, and the pages were yellow. The book's pages weren't even flat, they were bent like a sine curve along the spine. He flipped through the pages, looking for anything out of the ordinary, when he finally came to the last page of the book. Irokawa University was a red stamp across the top of the page.

Grimmjow couldn't believe how lucky he was. Of all the coincidences, this one seemed a little too much. Or maybe it was just fate that he was supposed to find this book.

"Where did you buy this?" he asked.

"At a garage sale, believe it or not, on the outskirts of Irokawa. But I don't remember where the house was or even the name of the family that sold it to me. I doubt you'd be able to find it."

"You're a real big help," Grimmjow sneered, but Ryuken only smiled back at him.

"My pleasure."

Grimmjow left with the book in his hands, thumbing through the pages as he walked back to the Kurosaki clinic. He had found the book, but it was a dead end. Once he got to the clinic he saw Isshin sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork. He walked towards him and leaned against the desk, tossing the book onto the papers that covered the surface.

"It's the book."

Isshin looked up, then put down his pen and the papers he was holding in his hands. "You don't sound too happy about it."

"It's also a dead end."

"Is it really that important to you to find out what happened?"

Grimmjow shrugged at the question. He leaned further onto the desk, effectively coming to sit on its edge. "I guess not. It just makes me sore, thinkin' 'bout the way some one got a one up on me. How my body was probably never even discovered, just sitting around God knows where wasting away."

"What do you think of the name Yamaguchi Taiki?"

Grimmjow blinked at the non sequitor. "Why?"

Isshin leaned over to open a drawer and pulled out a birth certificate and id. "It's an identity that Urahara was able to find. High school graduate with no family. Believed to be missing, but maybe you were just in a coma here in Karakura Town. If you can pass an entrance exam somewhere, you can go to college. Start a new life."

Their fingers brushed as Isshin handed Grimmjow the laminated sheet of paper. Grimmjow stared at it, tracing the letters of the name with his eyes. A second chance. All those years in the desolate wasteland known as Hueco Mundo, and now he was practically human again.

"I'd like that," he finally said. If he couldn't have an ending, he'd settle for a new beginning.

In their conversation Isshin had come to be sitting in between Grimmjow's legs. Isshin's hand was resting on Grimmjow's thigh, a position that had seemed innocent enough when he had moved it there, but was quickly coming to take on more meaning as the silence stretched between them.

Grimmjow spread his legs just a little bit wider, leaned back just a little bit farther. "When's your next patient?"

"Why?" Isshin asked, but he was already seeing the familiar glazed expression work itself into Grimmjow's eyes.

"You should cheer me up," Grimmjow said, sliding down to straddle Isshin's lap in the chair. "I'm kind of depressed over this whole thing."

"Really," Isshin started, but before he could say anything else Grimmjow was claiming his mouth in a kiss.

As Grimmjow bit and sucked at his lips, Isshin's hands wondered up Grimmjow's sides. Even after all they had done, he couldn't get enough of touching Grimmjow, of touching those lean, hard muscles. He pulled Grimmjow's hips farther into his lap, groaning a little bit when their groins met. They were both rock hard underneath their jeans, and at the first contact Grimmjow started grinding against him in small, circular movements. It felt so good, but they were both ready to feel something better.

Papers scattered to the floor as Isshin lifted Grimmjow back onto the desk. Grimmjow leaned back on his forearms, and Isshin quickly unzipped and pulled Grimmjow's pants and boxers off. Once they were gone Isshin moved between Grimmjow's legs and sucked Grimmjow's cock into his mouth.

Grimmjow almost purred as he was surrounding by wet heat. He watched as his cock disappeared into Isshin's mouth, enjoying the sight as much as the physical sensation. Then two fingers were pushing their way into his asshole, and he threw his head back in pleasure. Grimmjow had quickly learned that there was nothing he liked more than something hard thrusting into his hole, and knew it was something Isshin was more than willing to give him. He collapsed completely back on the desk, moaning as Isshin finger fucked him, never wanting it to stop but wanting something bigger too.

"Stop," Grimmjow finally said, though it came out more as a pant, "hurry up and stick it in already."

Isshin frowned, wondering why Grimmjow had to be so vulgar most of the time, but he had stopped being able to say no to Grimmjow awhile ago. He stood up, quickly smearing some lubrication on his cock before pulling Grimmjow to the very edge of the desk. He let Grimmjow's legs fall over his shoulders as he positioned himself, and then he was pushing his cock into that little hole.

Grimmjow was always so hot and tight, almost to the point of pain. But it always felt so amazing, fucking him, especially with the delicious moans and pants Grimmjow always made.

"Harder," Grimmjow managed to breath out, "fuck me harder."

Isshin complied, quickening his pace as he thrust in and out of Grimmjow's ass. He grabbed onto Grimmjow's hips, so hard he wouldn't be surprised if they bruised, and started pulling Grimmjow's body back and forth to meet each thrust. He looked down at where his cock was disappearing into Grimmjow's hole and felt a familiar crescendo build up at the sight.

"I'm coming," he mumbled, feeling his pace become erratic.

"Come inside me," Grimmjow panted. "I want to feel your cum in my ass."

Isshin came, hard, feeling lightheaded and dizzy as he did so. He was vaguely aware of Grimmjow's cum spilling in between their bodies, but then he was slumping forward as Grimmjow was sitting up. When his lucidity returned his head was on Grimmjow's shoulder and the other man was nuzzling against his jaw.

"Oh my god!" came an angry voice. "Why don't you two ever lock the door?"

Isshin snapped up as he heard the door slam, cringing when his cock pulled a little too quickly out of Grimmjow's ass.

A few minutes later Grimmjow came out of the clinic and into the kitchen, where Ichigo seemed to be attacking a stack of pancakes.

"What the fuck, man?" Ichigo asked, not even looking up at him. "In the middle of the day? In the clinic?"

Grimmjow decided to ignore Ichigo's ramblings for now, instead throwing the book onto the table.

"Found it," he said, "but there's no way to trace it back."

Momentarily distracted from his irritation and disgust, Ichigo picked up the book and started thumbing through it.

"Did Renji put out that s.o.s. in Soul Society?"

"Yeah, but, it's not leading anywhere. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Yeah, figured."

Grimmjow watched as Ichigo flipped through the pages. Ichigo's eyebrows were screwed up in concentration, mouth set in his default scowl.

"Do you see how the pages are all bent and warped?" Ichigo asked. "And how the ink is blurry everywhere?"

"Yeah," Grimmjow answered, even though he hadn't noticed about the ink. "What of it?"

"It's water damage," Ichigo replied. He looked up from the book, staring into space. Grimmjow could practically see the gears in his head turning. "I was thinking, about what we talked about earlier. I think you must have had the book when you left the room that night, because it wouldn't make sense for someone to come back to get it. It would be too incriminating. . . some one might see. Plus, why go through that trouble for a book?

"So, for whatever reason, you had the book with you. And then you bump into someone. Not necessarily some one you know, but some one you don't have any reason to mistrust. Because there was no sign of a struggle. Maybe it was a scorned lover, but it could have just as easily been a psychotic staff member. Let's say that, whoever it was led you somewhere under false pretenses and killed you. They'd get rid of the body. And if they want to make the body harder to identify, they'd get rid of anything it was carrying too."

"So they take the book," Grimmjow said. "But how does that help us? If the book was just something I was accidentally carrying around, than it doesn't really have anything to do with anything. It was just a waste of time to began with."

"That's what I was thinking," Ichigo admitted, "until we actually got ahold of it. This is just a hunch, but let's go with it. . . let's say this book was damaged the night you were killed. Looking at it, it's not damaged from rain or anything that casual. It looks like it was submerged in water. Not so long to cause a large amount of damage, but long enough to do this. Like maybe the murderer was wading through water at some point."

"So," Grimmjow said, "a body of water."

"Yeah, well. I was thinking, where would you go to get rid of a corpse in a hurry that has a lot of water in it? And I remembered there was a manhole right at the side of the dormitory. The sewer beneath campus. The question is, is it even worth it to go explore?"

Grimmjow had to pause at the question and run it through his head a few times. Images of his body at the bottom of some sewer filled his head. Alone and forgotten. At the very least. . .

"At the very least," he said, voice uncharacteristically subdued, "I'd like to give my body a burial."

"Yeah," Ichigo agreed. "Let's check it out this weekend then."


	5. Chapter 5

Renji handed Ichigo a can of soda. Their fingers intertwined on the cool aluminum, only to remain there as their eyes met.

"Thanks," Ichigo said, a small smile on his lips.

"No problem," Renji replied, still not moving his fingers off the soda can.

"You two make me want to throw up," came Grimmjow's disgusted voice. "What's with this sappy mood? We're fighters, not lovers."

Ichigo shrugged as he finally moved the soda can away from their combined grips. Ichigo couldn't be more pleased that his relationship with Renji was pretty much on the track he wanted it, despite Renji's freak out the morning after their first time together.

"No one asked you," he snapped back to Grimmjow.

The three men walked across Irokawa campus, Ichigo and Renji side by side and Grimmjow a few steps behind them, until they reached the manhole near the dorm. Of course, Ichigo had thought to bring a crow bar in advance (although it had been somewhat of a trick to keep it hidden all the way here). He slid the curved end of it into the hole in the middle of the manhole and lifted it up, sliding it back just enough that they would be able to get in.

"I'll go first," Grimmjow said, already moving into position at the ladder that was revealed. He climbed down, almost falling on the last rung onto a slippery stone surface. Once he got down there he turned on his flashlight to look around as he waited for the other two to join him.

They were pretty much on a platform that was built along the side of the tunnel, though it didn't really lead anywhere. To get anywhere else they'd have to get into the waste water that flowed beside them.

"Fucking disgusting," Grimmjow said, looking at the murky liquid.

"Do you feel that?" Ichigo said, turning his own flashlight on.

"Yeah," Renji replied. "That spiritual energy. . ."

They shared a look between them. It pissed Grimmjow off, that and the fact that he couldn't see or feel spiritual energy anymore. If it's one thing he hated it was feeling helpless, especially since he had been so strong before.

"It's this way," Renji said, leading them into the water and through the tunnel.

Grimmjow listened to the water move and flow around them as they walked through it, the noise amplified by the tunnel's shape and relative quiet. Somewhere in the distance he could hear water rushing down some incline, and every now and then he would hear footsteps of some small animal patter across a platform.

It wasn't long before Renji climbed out of the water and onto another platform, the other two following him. The men were never more relieved to be out the murky water, though the feeling of heavy, wet clothes against their skin wasn't the most pleasant thing either.

"Do you think it's a plus?" Renji asked, feeling out that light spiritual energy.

Ichigo shrugged. He was about to say something when suddenly there was a loud clatter from the side, and almost in unison three flashlights turned to focus on the noise. Their lights met nothing, just the wall of the tunnel.

"That definitely wasn't a rat."

"We should look around," Renji said. They seemed to be in an irregularly shaped part of the tunnel, with short pieces broken off from the main "room."

Grimmjow was shining his light down one tunnel when he swore he felt something brush against him. He turned, startled, but saw nothing there. He turned back to the area he had been exploring, when a small whisper filled the air directly next to his ear.

"Hisao."

Grimmjow spun around at the voice, flashlight illuminated as many areas he could. Nothing. He walked forward, steps maybe a little too quick, searching for whoever had said that.

"Who the fuck-"

But then he was knocked off his feet, his head hitting the hard stone behind him.

"Hisao," came the eerie whisper, growing more excited and menacing with every word, "is it really you?"

Grimmjow felt a weight settle on top of him, felt something close around. He looked up, searching for his friends, only to see Ichigo and Renji's bodies collapse onto the tunnel floor. Shit. His eyes widened, but then his head was lifted up and knocked against the hard, stone floor. He blacked out.

When Grimmjow woke up, he was walking. Or, it would be more correct to say, the body he was currently occupying was walking. He had absolutely no control of it; it was as though he was a spectator in his own dream. The body stopped in front of a glass door, and the reflection peered out at him for just a moment: Asakura Hisao. It was unmistakably him, only with black hair and wearing a doctor's coat.

Hisao opened and stepped through the door, into what looked like some kind of laboratory. There was a man there. Older and well built, his tall body was leaned over a desk as he looked through some papers.

"Still looking through those test results?" Hisao asked. He walked over to lean against the desk, directly next to the other man. The man looked up, eyes glinting even beneath his glasses. There was some stubble on his face, as though he hadn't shaved in a few days, and his light brown hair was disheveled. "You need a haircut. You're really looking like the absent-minded professor these days, aren't you?"

"Can't be helped," the professor said, leaning back in his chair. One of his hands came up to rest on Hisao's thigh as he smiled. "I have exams to grade, and I think I'm getting somewhere with this experiment. It doesn't leave me much time for me."

"Or for me?" Hisao asked, smirking at the older man.

"There's always time for you." The professor kneaded the flesh of Hisao's inner thigh, moving higher and higher, bit by bit. His fingers had only brushed against Hisao's groin when Hisao hit it with a ruler he had picked up from the desk. The professor yanked his head away, making a small noise as he did so.

What the hell, though Grimmjow, it was just getting good. His former self was an idiot. But Hisao's smirk had only grown wider. "I have a class to go to. If you want to finish this, come by my dorm later tonight."

"Is that okay?" The professor said, frowning. "What if people find out about us?"

"We'll say that you're trying to recruit me to the neuroscience division. It's not a lie, is it? I've still got that book you gave me."

"And I'm sure you haven't even touched it," the professor said, disappointment clear in every syllable.

"Hey, not my fault your field of research doesn't appeal to me." Hisao grinned as he half-straddled the professor's chair, one leg on the ground while the other went up to rest between the professor's thighs. "A little preview of tonight."

His knee ground lightly into the other man's groin, and his lips came down to capture the other man's mouth. As they kissed the professor's hands came to wrap around his waist, pull him closer. Grimmjow reveled at the feeling of a strong chest against his, but all too soon Hisao was pulling back. The professor sighed as he found his arms empty.

"Is eight good for you?" the professor asked. "I do think we should go to a hotel though. It's too risky having sex in your dormitory."

"Fine," Hisao conceded, shrugging. He didn't seem to particularly care. "I'll meet you in the parking lot in the back of the dorms at eight."

"I'll see you then. Really, kid, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Hisao bent down for one more kiss, their tongues intertwining with the promise of a later meeting. As Hisao left the lab he was surprised to find another student there, waiting for him.

"Akira?" Hisao asked. "What are you doing here?"

The man named Akira frowned. "I just came to pick you up for our next class. I don't know why you spend so much time with Professor Tsukigata, the guy creeps me out."

"How?" Hisai asked. "He's just a normal professor."

"His experiments are really on the boundaries of what's ethical," Akira replied. "Besides, are you okay with being 'the other woman'? He has a wife and kids, doesn't he? You don't think he'd ever leave them for you, do you?"

Hisao scowled. "I'm not asking him to leave them. What I do is my business, and I've got my reasons for it. Childhood friend or not, you've just got to butt out sometimes."

The two men walked into a classroom together, but thankfully Grimmjow's vision blurred away and segued into a different scene, so he wouldn't have to sit through a stupid biology lecture or whatever they were doing. When his vision cleared he was in his dormitory, which looked almost identical to the way it looked in present time. The clock on his desk, sitting in between a rugby ball and a stack of books, read 7:45. Hisao grabbed one of the books and placed it in a large pocket on the inside of his jacket, and Grimmjow realized it was that neuroscience book. He was probably returning it to the professor.

Akira showed up in his doorframe then, a pack of cigarettes in his hand. "I'm going to have a cigarette outside. Want to come?"

"Yeah, sure," Hisao said. "I've got some time to kill."

The two men walked out of the building, complaining about their organic chemistry professor the whole time. Most of what they were saying went above Grimmjow's head, and he was relieved when they came to the side of the building and stopped. They leaned against the wall, and Akira handed Hisao a cigarette before lighting it for him. Grimmjow felt smoke and nicotine fill up Hisao's lungs, felt it leave as Hisao breathed out. They started talking about classes again, but at least Grimmjow could enjoy the feel of smoking while they did it.

After a little bit, though, Grimmjow started to feel lightheaded. He felt Hisao stumble, his knees weakening as he fell to the floor. The cigarette dropped to the floor beside him, and Grimmjow noticed that it was burning a strange shade of purple.

"Sorry, Hisao," Akira said, "but I'm doing this for your own good."

"What? Akira?" Speaking sent a shaft of pain through his throat, and he cringed as he shut his mouth. Arms wrapped themselves under his armpits, and he felt himself being dragged across the floor. Akira was opening something. . . the manhole to the sewer, Grimmjow realized. A few moments later his body was dropped into a hole, the pain of hitting the hard stone floor making him scream.

"Akira," Hisao tried again, "let me go."

"This is for your own good," Akira repeated. He dragged Hisao into the water, and Grimmjow could feel the cold water lap up around his body, touching his chin. "You shouldn't be with that man. He doesn't really care about you; if he did, he wouldn't be staying with his wife and children. I've been with you almost our whole lives, Hisao. I've always cared about you. Why can't you see that?"

"You're crazy," Hisao said.

"You won't be saying that for long. You'll see, I'm just doing what's best for you."

"Fucking nuts."

Eventually Hisao was pulled out of the water, and Akira was dragging him through a large space. Grimmjow recognized it as the room he had been in before, when he had been attacked by the unseen presence. Akira dragged him into a small nook and laid him against the wall.

"Now," Akira said, "let's get you out of these wet clothes."

Akira slowly stripped Grimmjow, leaving the other man shivering against the wall. He put the clothes to the side for now, then picked up something from the side. A baseball bat. He must have had it ready for this, Grimmjow realized. He pulled it into the air, and a second later Hisao and Grimmjow were both screaming as it came crashing down on Hisao's leg. The sound of multiple breaking bones filled the air. The pain was still radiating outwards as the bat was brought down on Hisao's other leg, bringing another scream and a fresh wave of pain. As Hisao's body tried to convulse into itself, Akira grabbed his arms and tied them behind him, to some small pipes that came out of the wall.

"I just need to make sure you're not going anywhere," Akira said. "But don't worry, I'll come down to see you all the time. I'll never leave you, Hisao."

Akira bent forward to claim Hisao's lips in his, and Hisao bit into them harshly. Akira pulled away and slapped him, the pain of the slap barely anything compared to the feeling coursing from his legs. Blood was dripping from Akira's lips, and Hisao couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction, despite the situation he was in.

"That wasn't nice, Hisao," Akira said. "Well, it doesn't matter. Soon you won't be strong enough to fight back."

Akira went to pick up Hisao's clothes, and turned to leave. "I'll be back, Hisao, so don't worry. I'll come back to see you tomorrow."

Grimmjow could hear the sound of Akira getting back into the water and wading away. Pain filled his every nerve ending, and apparently it was too much for Hisao, as blackness took over his consciousness.

"Grimmjow. Grimmjow."

Grimmjow slowly came back to reality, aware of Ichigo's hands wrapped around his arms as the boy shook him back and forth.

"For fuck's sake," Grimmjow said, swatting Ichigo's hands away. "Stop that. I'm fine. What happened?"

"This little hollow attacked you," Ichigo said. "So we went into our shinigami forms and got rid of him. Must have been a pretty bad guy while he was alive, cause he went straight to hell."

"He must have had quite an attachment to this place," Renji said. "If all he's been doing is hanging out in the sewers, no wonder the local shinigami never exterminated him."

"Yeah," Grimmjow muttered, "think I know who he was."

Renji raised an eyebrow. "Got some of your memories back?"

"Yeah," Grimmjow said. "Seems like I was killed by an obsessive stalker. What a crappy way to die."

At Ichigo and Renji's confused expressions, Grimmjow muttered a quick "I'll explain later." He wanted to get to his body, and he knew exactly where it was. The others followed him and he turned into a familiar nook, flashing a light into its depths. And there it was. A dull grey skeleton, propped against the wall of one of the side nooks. A baseball bat, wasted away from moisture and time, stood beside him.

Grimmjow leaned down, looking at the sad state of his skeleton. He wondered how long Akira had him imprisoned down here before he had died. At least now he could give his body the burial it deserved. Ichigo and Renji came to kneel beside him, and they made delicate work of placing each piece in Ichigo's backpack.

The funeral was only a few days later, just as soon as they were able to buy a coffin and space in the cemetery. It was really only Isshin, Ichigo, Renji, and Grimmjow, and no one said any eulogies, considering the person they were burying was still living among them. They only lit incense and placed flowers, but that was enough for Grimmjow. It was a nice feeling, to be able to lay his body to rest.

Afterwards Ichigo and Renji walked ahead of the other two, trying to find some private time together. It had been an eventful week, more so than Renji had expected. He and Ichigo hadn't had that much time together, really. But Renji was due back to Soul Society about two hours ago, so there wasn't any more time to delay.

"I can come back down next time I've got a break," Renji said.

"I can come up next weekend," Ichigo offered instead. "I can make Urahara open up a senkaimon for me."

"Yeah," Renji replied, perking up a little, "sounds good."

They smiled at each other before Renji leaned down to kiss Ichigo, only to have Grimmjow shout at them from several yards away.

"Get a room!" he called.

"Look who's talking!" Ichigo snapped back.

Renji was vaguely embarrassed over kissing Ichigo when Isshin was in eyesight, but the old man was pretending that he hadn't seen. Ichigo and Renji waited for the other two to catch up, and then Renji turned to Grimmjow.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked.

"The old man's going to help me study," Grimmjow said, "then I'm gonna go back to school."

"If he actually makes it in," Ichigo muttered under his breath.

"That's not nice, Ichigo," Isshin added. "For all you know, you two could end up at the same university."

Both men scowled at that thought.

"Medicine?" Renji asked, surprised when Grimmjow shook his head no.

"I'm thinking that I'm kinda interested in forensic science."

Renji chuckled at that. "Yeah, well, take care."

"Yeah," Grimmjow said, "you too. I'm sure I'll see you around."

Isshin waved to Renji before the two of them got into the car, leaving Ichigo and Renji alone outside of it. Renji's hell butterfly was fluttering around his arm, eager to get back home, but Renji ignored it for now.

"Be nice to Grimmjow," he said, not being able to help himself, "you might end up havin' to call him mommy one of these days."

"As if," Ichigo said, but worry fluttered over his features for a second.

"I'll see you later."

They leaned towards each another for another kiss. Then Renji took out his zanpakuto and sliced the air to open a senkaimon, his butterfly flying in a frantic pace around. He stepped through it, turning back to wave one last time before the it closed behind him.

Ichigo sighed before getting into the car, ready for the drive home. Hopefully, the next time they got together, things wouldn't be so hectic.


End file.
